Wrong Wedding

by Noelle Adams

  “Understood.”

  She checked his expression but didn’t see any disappointment or resentment. He looked as relaxed as normal, which was a relief.

  And also a tiny bit of a letdown.

  Pushing aside that feeling, since it was ridiculous and irrational, she wisely changed the subject. “So what are we going to do when we get there? It’s going to be pretty early.”

  “Yeah. If Carter has really been living it up the way it looks from his credit card record, then he’ll probably still be sleeping it off when we arrive. We’ll head to the hotel he’s been booked in for the past two nights, and I’ll see if I can talk any of the staff into spilling which room he’s in.”

  “They’re not going to just give out that information.”

  “I can be pretty persuasive.”

  She snorted. “Let me guess. You’re going to find a susceptible female and woo the information out of her.”

  “Woo isn’t the word I’d use.”

  “Seduce.” She shook her head. “You can be a real dick, you know.”

  “I know that. And if I ever forget, I always have you to remind me. But we’ve got to figure it out somehow. If that doesn’t work, I’ll call the hotel and ask to be connected to his room. If he picks up the phone, I’ll let you convince him to come talk to us. He won’t want to say no to you.”

  “Okay. I guess it’s a plan. What if he doesn’t want to come home with us?”

  “We’ll worry about that if it happens. We have to find the noble idiot first.”

  A FEW HOURS LATER, their rideshare dropped them off at the main entrance of a large hotel and casino. Summer usually arranged for hired cars to pick her up from airports, but Lincoln said rideshares were less hassle, and he was right.

  It wasn’t even noon, but there was already a lot of activity in the entryway and lobby.

  Summer hated casino resorts like this. She hated all the fake glitz and all the noise and lights and distracting décor and all the unnatural fervor that shuddered in the manufactured air. As soon as she walked in, she shrank into herself, immediately wanting to walk back out.

  “Y’okay?” Lincoln asked, turning to look down at her. He’d waved away the bell staff, so he was carrying his overnight bag on his shoulder and rolling her small suitcase behind him. He wore a slate-blue button-up shirt and black trousers and looked way too sexy for just getting off a plane.

  “Yeah. Fine. Just don’t like it here.”

  He put a hand on her back and moved her to an out-of-the-way corner with an upholstered bench. “Why don’t you wait here with the stuff? I’ll see if I can get us rooms.”

  “It’s too early to check in.”

  “Maybe. But I doubt they’re full on a Monday in late January. And I need to find someone to ask about Carter anyway. Just wait here where it’s quiet.”

  She sniffed. “Don’t think you’re fooling me. You’re not looking out for me. You just don’t want me tagging along and cramping your style as you work your wooing magic.”

  He chuckled and tilted his head down to brush a very light kiss on her cheekbone. “Almost right. But I told you before. I don’t woo.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle. And try not to get too fluttery at his unexpected kiss. She wasn’t going to make a big deal about it though. She sat on the bench as Lincoln set his bag beside her and rolled her case within her arm’s reach.

  She watched as he walked toward the front desk. There were a few people talking to the staff there, and she shook her head as she saw Lincoln make a beeline for a young, attractive woman who wasn’t working with any of the guests.

  There was no doubt about it. He’d get the information they needed. And probably end up getting them the best rooms in the hotel.

  The man was way too hot. Way too charming. Way too used to getting his way. It made him genuinely dangerous.

  She’d made the right decision about saying no to his offer of sex.

  God help the poor fool who fell for Lincoln Wilson. She might as well try to take a leisurely swim in shark-infested waters. Nothing but danger and heartbreak lay in that direction.

  Summer was over thirty now. She was too grown-up to make that kind of adolescent mistake.

  FOURTEEN HOURS LATER, Summer got out of the shower and dried herself off with a thick white hotel towel.

  She was exhausted and discouraged and on the verge of tears. But she’d already cried once today—by herself in a bathroom stall out of sheer frustration after endless hours of searching futilely for Carter—so she really didn’t want to break down again.

  She pulled on soft fleece pajama pants and a tank top. Then stared at her face in the bathroom mirror. There were shadows under her eyes. She put on moisturizer, but it did nothing to improve her appearance. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail she’d worn in the shower and left it loose to sleep in. Brushing her teeth completed her nighttime routine, so she left the bathroom, turned out the lights and turned on the television, and then climbed into bed.

  Lincoln had gotten them upgraded rooms that connected by a door between them. He’d easily gotten Carter’s room number from the hotel staff, and when his brother failed to answer their knocks, he’d convinced a member of housekeeping to let them into the room.

  Carter’s stuff had been there, but he hadn’t been.

  They spent the rest of the day searching for him, but he’d stopped using his credit card, so they’d had to rely on asking people if they’d seen him and staking out his room.

  They’d spent the past two hours in the hall near his room, waiting to see if he’d return. He hadn’t. Summer had been willing to wait all night, but Lincoln had insisted they give up and go to bed. They could pound on his door first thing in the morning. Surely he’d be back there by then.

  Summer had been hoping that she’d go to sleep quickly since she was so exhausted, but her mind was whirling, and she couldn’t even close her eyes for very long.

  She was almost relieved at the knock on the connecting door.

  “It’s unlocked,” she called. She hadn’t bothered to lock her side of the door after they’d had it open to plan their search earlier in the day.

  Lincoln came into the room, wearing a pair of dark pajama pants and nothing else. He stood and looked at her in bed. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. I could just feel all these angsty vibes wafting their way under the crack in the door and invading the air of my room.”

  She huffed in tired amusement and pulled the covers up toward her shoulders. “I’m fine. Just kind of glum.”

  “Yeah.” Lincoln walked around the bed to the other side. It didn’t surprise her when he stretched out beside her, on top of the covers.

  She turned on her side toward him. “I’m really worried about him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Tell me the truth. This isn’t normal. I know you said he’s gone on binges before, but they haven’t been like this. Have they?”

  Lincoln’s eyes were sober. He was lying on his back, but his head was turned toward her. “No. They haven’t been like this.”

  “What do you think has gotten into him? I mean, what’s prompted this?”

  “He feels guilty about making you marry me.”

  “But that’s not enough. I mean, I can understand him feeling bad. But I’m fine. I’m fine, and everyone can see it. I’m not unhappy. You’ve been decent to me. Obnoxious but decent. So why would he react so... so...?” She couldn’t think of the right word.

  Lincoln shook his head slowly. “It does seem like an extreme reaction. I don’t know what’s prompting it. There’s something going on with him that we don’t know about.”

  “But why don’t we know about it? You’re his brother, and I’m his best friend. There’s no one in the world closer to him than we are. So why don’t we know what’s going on?” She was getting emotional, and her voice cracked in response.

  Lincoln brushed o
ne of her cheeks with his fingertips. “Because he doesn’t want us to know.”

  “Why not? We love him. More than anyone. Why wouldn’t he want us to know?”

  “Maybe...”

  “Maybe what?”

  He drew back his hand and looked away from her. “I don’t know. Just a random thought. I hope it’s not right. Surely it’s not...” His features twisted very briefly.

  It scared her. “Lincoln? What is it? Tell me.”

  “It’s nothing. I don’t think it’s right. He’s never... never once...”

  She reached out to grab any part of him she could reach. It happened to be his upper arm. Her fingers wrapped around the firm contour of his bicep. “He’s never what? If you know, you have to tell me.”

  “I don’t know. I promise. Just random thoughts that are probably figments of my angst-ridden imagination. I really think it’s just a lifetime of holding himself to impossible standards. No one can live up to it. So he’s finally just fallen off the deep end. He’ll be okay. We’ll bring him home. He’s going to be all right, Summer. I promise.”

  She nodded, feeling better when he met her eyes again.

  “We’ll find him tomorrow. And we won’t go home until he’s coming with us.”

  She slid her hand up his neck until she was touching his bristly jaw. She loved the texture of it beneath her fingertips. “Thank you, Lincoln.”

  His body tightened. “You’re welcome.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from touching him. She ran her fingers along the line of his jaw. Toward his mouth. She brushed his lips before she realized what she was doing.

  She pulled back with a jerk, both terrified and embarrassed.

  His mouth quirked up on one side. “Tell me the truth, Summer.”

  She swallowed and grew very still. “About what?”

  He hesitated for several seconds. She held her breath through the silence. Then he reached down to grab the throw blanket she’d spread over her lower legs. “Is this your gaggy?”

  She always took the throw blanket when she traveled. It was small and light and velvety soft and a lovely rich shade of chocolate brown. “No, it’s not my gaggy!”

  “Your blankie?”

  “No!” She shot him an outraged look. “It’s a throw blanket. I take it with me because sometimes I’m cold and I like to have something to cover up with that doesn’t require me getting under the sheets in bed. It’s not a blankie or a gaggy!”

  He chuckled and spread the blanket out over him. “If you say so.”

  “I do say so. And you obviously see the benefit of it since you’re using it right now.”

  “That’s just because you’d get mad at me if I tried to get under the covers with you.”

  “I’d definitely get mad. Don’t even think about it.”

  “I won’t. That’s why I’m using your blankie.” He twitched his eyebrows.

  She dissolved into giggles and got more comfortable in bed. They lay in silence for a few minutes, both of them focused on the television.

  Eventually she turned back toward him. “Thank you, Lincoln.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me smile. For making me feel better. I know you did it on purpose.”

  He gave a little shrug and surprised her by looking slightly self-conscious. “Maybe it made me feel better too.”

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Summer woke up groggy and confused. Even more confused when she turned her head and discovered Lincoln was sleeping in the bed beside her.

  It took several seconds for her to orient herself to where she was and what was happening, but she relaxed as soon as she did.

  Lincoln was asleep on his back, bare chested and covered with her soft brown throw. He’d obviously fallen asleep last night after they’d talked and evidently hadn’t woken up and moved back to his own bed.

  It didn’t matter. He was on his own side and on top of the covers. Nothing embarrassing or unduly disturbing had happened. And it was kind of nice to see him sleeping. He looked different. Softer. More vulnerable. Without the sharp edges of his personality, the amused gleam of his eyes, and the clever irony of his expression.

  He had really thick, dark eyelashes. Inappropriately so.

  “The force of your stare is disturbing my slumbers.”

  She giggled at his dry, mumbled comment. “Hey, you’re the one who couldn’t manage to get to his own bed last night.”

  “Yeah.” He opened his eyes and rolled over to face her. “Sorry about that. Not sure why I collapsed like that.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Except you stole my blanket all night after you derided it so mockingly.”

  “Well, I figured you’d prefer it to my sharing your sheet.”

  “You’re definitely not invited under my sheets.”

  They smiled at each other until Summer remembered she’d just woken up. Her hair was probably a mess. Her cheeks and neck were likely to be unattractively flushed. And one strap of her tank top was slipping down her shoulder.

  She straightened it and turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

  “What’s the matter?” Lincoln reached over to turn her head back to face him.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why do you insist on lying to me when you’re probably the worst liar in the world?”

  “I am not a bad liar!”

  “Yes, you are. You’re way too earnest to be a good liar. Lying takes emotional distance, and you’re really bad at that.”

  She scowled at him. “I am not earnest!”

  He was laughing outright now, his eyes warm and soft. Almost tender.

  She would have loved the look of him had she not been so unsettled by his assessment of her. “Stop laughing. You’re wrong. I’m not that earnest.”

  He scooted closer to her, raising himself up so he was gazing down at her. “Look at you, Summer. You respond to my teasing with an earnest declaration about how you’re not earnest.”

  “I did not—” She broke off because he was infuriatingly right.

  He stroked one of her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Earnest isn’t an insult, baby.”

  “It is when you laugh at me about it. And calling me baby isn’t going to make up for it.”

  “I’m not trying to make up for it. I love that you’re earnest. That you take things seriously. That you take me seriously.”

  She blinked, her heart starting to flutter at his featherlight caress and the look in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I take you seriously?”

  “Most people don’t.”

  “That’s because you don’t want people to take you seriously. If all you do is tease and make sarcastic comments and laugh at people with your eyes, then they’re not going to look beyond the surface.”

  “So why do you?”

  She wasn’t sure if her racing heart and pulsing blood was from fear or excitement, but it felt like the world had stopped—time had stopped—freezing around this one moment. Lincoln. And her. In bed. Inches apart. Gazing at each other. “I... I don’t know. Because I think there’s more to you than you want to show to the world. Because I don’t think you’re as bad as you pretend to be.”

  “Yeah?” His voice was no more than a rasp.

  “Yeah.”

  He leaned down, and she was sure he would kiss her. She wanted him to. She’d never wanted anything more.

  But his mouth moved toward her ear instead of her lips. And he whispered, “That’s because you’re earnest.”

  The almost taunting tone was like a blow to her shuddering excitement. But it wasn’t all bad. Part of her was intensely relieved he’d moved them past that terrifying moment. She gave an exaggerated gasp and pushed him away. “Asshole.”

  “Definitely.” He winked at her as he sat up and got up from the bed, pulling up his pajama pants as he did since they’d slid down way too far. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Her eyes ran up and down the beautifully toned lines of his body. There was no way not to leer a
little at the gorgeousness of his half-naked form. But she was thinking about his last comment as he headed for his own room.

  Maybe it had just been his normal banter, but it felt like there was something significant in the words.

  She thought about them for a long time.

  AFTER THEY GOT DRESSED and had breakfast, they staked out Carter’s hotel room for a couple of hours until the housekeepers got nervous and asked them to leave.

  So they moved their vigil to the lobby right where the elevators opened, so they could catch Carter as soon as he came downstairs.

  They waited for hours, taking turns going to the bathroom, stretching their legs, or buying snacks for them to eat. Finally Lincoln got impatient and played up to an assistant manager, making up a sob story about his brother and convincing her to let him into his room.

  Sadly, that led to the discovery that Carter had never returned last night, which meant several hours of their day had been wasted.

  Lincoln returned to the sofa in the lobby where she’d been sitting with this depressing news. He collapsed beside her with a groan that embodied exactly the way she felt herself.

  “Can we check to see if he’s used his credit card lately?” she asked.

  He nodded and pulled out his phone. She watched him for a minute before she asked, “How are you able to check his credit card?”

  Lincoln slanted her an almost sheepish look. “I know his password.”

  “How do you know his password?”

  “He’s used the same one on all his accounts since high school. The guy is as naive as it gets.”

  She chuckled and leaned over in an attempt to peer at his phone screen. “What’s the password?”

  He pulled the phone away. “I’m not going to tell you that. I might not be a good guy, but I’m not such a thoughtless bastard as to give out someone’s password.”

  She huffed without any heat and waited as he pulled up Carter’s credit card account.

  “Okay,” Lincoln said. “I don’t know what’s going on, but he booked a room at another hotel late last night. Hopefully he’s still there. Let’s go.”